stories

I Should Have Said Yes

As an only child, I’m used to doing things for myself.  And I HATE asking for help.  For anything.  Well, basic stuff.  You know, stuff like bringing in my groceries, cleaning the house, and re-arranging my work space, I got it covered (I do need a maid, though).  But for heavy lifting, moving, shoveling snow, I’m real quick to figure out who I can ask to help.

Last week at work, I had to stay late for a meeting.  After I had my students straighten things up and pack my bags with the leftovers, another (male) adult asked if he could carry the bag for me.  It wasn’t heavy, so I said, “Thanks, but I got it!”  Thirty seconds later, heck probably 10 seconds later, I realized I should have said, “Yes”.  No, the bag was easy to carry, and we were just going down the one flight of steps.  But I should have let that man carry that light bag down one flight of steps.  For a number of reasons.

One, men like to feel needed.  And in that moment, though he had just met me, I needed him.  And he needed to feel needed.  Two, I should have allowed him to be a gentleman.  It was the right thing for him to over to carry my bag for me.  And although he may have been asking to be nice, not really expecting to carry the bag, I should have let him.  Because I would have been sending the message, you ask me to carry something/do something for me, I’m going to let you.  Three, I’m so quick to tell people “no” without really hearing what they are saying to me.  I should have listened to his question, processed it, then provided an appropriate answer.  In my haste to get out of dodge, I wasn’t really focusing on the nice gentleman in the suit who was offering his assistance.  In my defense, I was finishing an 11 hour work day and I was sick.

So, at the end of the day, the lesson learned is: everyone wants to feel needed, especially men.  And the other lesson: when someone offers to do something nice for you, allow them to, especially a man. 🙂  Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city!

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Snow

“Mom, it’s snowing!”

“Oh, I wish I was there with you!  Take a picture so I can see it!”

That was how a conversation typically went whenever I would call my mom and let her know that it was snowing in DC.  That woman loved snow.  When I was younger, I remember when my mom would make ice cream from snow.  But never the first snow of the season.

“You don’t use the first snow of the season; you have to wait until the 2nd or the 3rd.  And you have to make sure that it’s pure white and doesn’t have ice mixed with it.”

Then she would make it.  I’m not sure what ingredients were used, maybe some vanilla extract, but that’s about it.  And it didn’t snow that much in South Carolina when I was growing up, at least not often enough to have multiple snow days each year.  But I distinctly remember my 9th or 10th winter when my best friend lived around the corner, we made snow angels in my front yard, and my mom made us ice cream.  And it was delicious.

I’m not sure what difference it made whether it was the 1st snow or the 10th snow, but it was embedded in my head to not use the first snow of the season if I wanted ice cream.

Every time it’s snowed since October, I’ve thought about my mom, even if it snowed less than an inch.  Even today as I was cleaning off my car, I thought about her.  The snow was so pure and white and, without any ice mixed in-the perfect batch with which to make ice cream.  My first thought was, “I should scoop some of this in a bowl and make some ice cream.”

When I purchase my first home, I’m getting an ice cream maker.

Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city.

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Way Back Wednesday- Glamour Girl

I haven’t done a WBW post in about 2 years.  And since I want to do some more research/thinking on other topics, you’re getting something directly from the heart. 🙂

Growing up, Southern Mom and one of my aunts used to call me Glamour Girl.  Despite the fact I wore lip gloss (“my lip gloss be popping”), played with Barbie dolls, and HATED to get dirty, I told them they were wrong; I was a tomboy… (Yes, you can laugh.)  I think I wanted to go away from this because I viewed being a Glamour Girl as negative.  Even though the sisters were having fun at the expense of an 8 year old, I wasn’t having it.

Despite having a father that is about 6’3″ (now do you see why I want a tall dude???) and a mother that is 5’7″, I stopped growing at 5’4″, due my having scoliosis.  And I was always a little taller and heavier than my female classmates.  I was a jolly green giant until about 7th grade when everyone else started to catch up with me.  At this age, even with my participation in basketball and cheerleading, I began to embrace being a glamour girl.  I was a ham for the camera (still am) and loved dressing up (still do).  My hopes of being a model were dashed when I realized I wasn’t going to grow anymore.  I can’t remember if I ever told Southern Mom this, but she knew that was a dream; maybe that’s an example of a mother knowing her child.  I did participate in the pageant at my high school for two years and in the pageant hosted by my mom’s sorority, not necessarily because I thought I was going to win, but because I thought it would be fun.  And I had no problem being put on display.

While some girls would be miserable if they didn’t win because this was there end all and be all, my mother instilled in me that not only was I pretty but I was also intelligent, nice, friendly, and had a number of other things going for myself.  I was more than just a pretty face. Some girls, that’s all they know, which is unfortunate.  And this isn’t to say that I didn’t have some insecurities.  We all do, and we would be lying if we said we didn’t.  I always wanted longer hair (still do) and wondered if the girl next to me was prettier.

I am happy to say, that even though I still sometimes suffer from insecurities, I’m still a Glamour Girl, even at 31.  I embrace it.  And I better since I’m getting my own crown and sash in less than a month.  And I DO plan on winning my next pageant in August.  And even if I don’t, I’ll be ok.  Because I’m more than just a pretty face.  I’m a friend, a leader, a daughter, a writer, and a volunteer.  Also, I’m not just walking across that stage and putting myself on display for me.  My hope and prayer is that a woman or girl who sees me knows that she can follow in my footsteps, even if she isn’t 5’10” but is closer to 5’2″ and isn’t a size 4 but is closer to a size 16.  I’m also doing it because I think it’ll be fun, I  like to dress up and I don’t mind being on display.   Until next time, I’m just  a Southern girl…in the city!

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A Story

I changed the title of this post about 3 times; I may change it again before I hit “publish”.  (I did.) This weekend I had an AMAZING time with my girls!  We laughed, we joked, we danced, we met up with old friends, we met some new friends, we hung out with my family, and my linesister and I almost got lost in the street game (that’s a post for another day).  All in all, I am so glad I went away on this mini-vacay!  I almost didn’t want to come back…almost.

Before I left DC, I heard a voice speak something into my existence-something I hadn’t thought about in awhile.  But, as we are proned to do at times, I didn’t pay it any attention.  When we were in NC this weekend, the same voice spoke this same thing into my existence again.  Not necessarily louder, but definitely with more force.  And with so much force that I started paying attention.  When we are on the right track and start doing the right thing, God will come to us.  And we must listen and pray and talk to Him to ensure first that we are doing the right thing AND doing it the right way.

Yes, I know, short post, but I had to get this off my chest-when God speaks to us, it would behoove us to listen.  Sometimes we may have to leave our comfort zone in order to receive our blessings.  And when He speaks to us, we cannot ignore him.  That’s when His voice gets a little louder, His hints not so subtle.  But why would we want to shoot ourselves in the foot and not receive blessings that were made specifically for us?  Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city.

P.S.  Yes, I know I’m a slacker.  It’s the 19th day of Black History Month, and I have yet to highlight an entrepreneur.  The highlights are coming-just pray for me. 🙂  Also, scratch what I said in an earlier post about doing things (i.e. volunteering and joining organizations) to potentially have my mate meet me. (This comes from putting the right thing in your spirit and opening yourself up to hear the right things.) Like Ruth, if I’m focusing on bettering myself and living my life, all of that other stuff will come.

Today’s Black History Month Fact: Edward Sawyer Cooper, M.D. was elected as the first Black president of the American Heart Association in 1992.

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I’m 30!!! Now What???

For someone who wanted to COMPLETELY cancel my birthday celebration weekend, I had an AMAZE balls time!  My girls came in town, I travelled the city, partied it up, and was even surprised by my BFF (that lives in Chicago) at Sunday brunch, although he told me he wasn’t going to be able to make it to DC for the weekend. 

I have to admit, though, over the past few days, I feel a bit more at peace.  It’s like a calm has come over me that I’ve never felt before.  And yes, I know it’s only been 3 days, but I think I may like 30. 

I don’t know what it is about my friend J.R. and I, but our lives have become more parellel over the past few months.  And after a long discussion after happy hour last night, she gave me some sage advice-Enjoy the gray.  Let me explain.

There’s a young lad that has caught my attention, and although I think there’s something there on his side, J.R. told me to stay in the gray and let things happen.  For those of you that know me, you know I LIVE in the black and white.  Say what you mean, and mean what you say.  If you feel something, say so.  But…I will heed her warning and fall back.  And it’s not like I’ll never see this guy again; I mean, we do volunteer for the same non-profit. 

So, I’m 30.  I feel like I’m in a place where I can really start to enjoy my life, have fun, and be independent.  I can go on vacations, travel home, or stay in my own house watching “Living Single” re-runs eating Pop Secret.  If things are slated to go up from here, then I think 30’s alright with me.  I’m happy…and no one’s going to take that from me.  Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city!

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